


Insatiable Interlude: A Fine Meal

by Caro Dee (Caro_Dee)



Series: Insatiable [2]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Food Porn, M/M, Masturbation, POV First Person, PWP, Public Sex, Sentinel Senses, Sexual Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 08:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caro_Dee/pseuds/Caro%20Dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has a fine dining experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insatiable Interlude: A Fine Meal

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in June 2003. I'd like to thank ShayAlyce and Bluewolf for the excellent beta and everyone at Sentinel_Betas who participated in the great salivary gland debate.

I go over myself one more time before leaving the truck. Suit and tie... check. Hair combed... check. I'm wearing Blair's T-shirt underneath--tight, but bearable, releasing little whiffs of Blair scent every time I move. Grounding... check. I cup my crotch to confirm the last thing... check. I get out and lock the door.

Maurice's is an old Cascade tradition. My father used to bring us boys here on special occasions. The food here is to _die_ for.

The maitre d' looks like he's eighty years old. I remember him working here the last time I came in the late seventies. He totters over to a booth and hands me the menu.

I take my time looking it over. All the food is good, but there really is no choice. It has to be the peppercorn steak. My absolute favorite in the whole world. What does require careful thought is the wine list. What would be the perfect complement to peppercorn steak?

After I place my order with the waiter, I consult with the Wine Steward. He recommends a Merlot from a vineyard I've never heard of, but I follow his advice.

Mechanically, I eat the salad when it comes out. I'm impatient, excited at the thought of the upcoming treat. I take a sip of the very fine wine and look around. Maurice's is done old-style, dignified, with fine oil paintings of the Cascade landscape of the last century on the walls. The ambiance is quiet and the lights are low. The circular booths are fairly private and well-upholstered in forest green leather. Rich people eat here.

The underwaiter finally comes, bearing my entree and carefully setting it before me. I sigh in anticipation and look down at my old memory. The steak is rolled in peppercorns and broiled, the smell absolute perfection, causing my mouth to flood with saliva. The plate is artfully arranged with potato and vegetables, which I ignore completely.

Grabbing my fork and steak knife, I carefully cut off a slice. The outside is seared and crusty; the inside, pink and juicy. I raise my dials and lift the fork to my mouth.

Oh God! Ambrosia. The taste bursts on my tongue and a moan escapes me.

Embarrassed, I look around to see if anyone heard me. No one is close enough. Good. That's good. I slowly savor the mouthful, feeling my cock rapidly swelling in my pants.

I take another bite, closing my eyes in ecstasy. Damn, this is good! This is really good! The primal taste of the meat with the piercing bite of the peppercorns sings along my nerves, and my cock twitches in response. I feel the two sensations moving closer. Any second now, they're going to merge and....

"Jimmy? Jimmy Ellison?"

Damn. Damn. Damn. I yank my dials back down and open my eyes. Nathan Hargrove is standing by my booth, looking happy to see me. We used to be good friends back in High School. I am not happy to see him right now.

"Hi, Nathan. How've you been?"

"Not bad at all, Jimmy. Did you hear? I got promoted to Vice President of Development at Smith Wells." Nathan is looking justifiably pleased with himself. He doesn't have to work and he's earned the promotion on his own merits.

"That's great news, buddy! Congratulations. How's Peggy?" C'mon. C'mon. Hurry up and leave.

"She's fine. Sitting right over there." Peggy and I wave at each other. "Would you care to join us?"

 _No!_ "No, thanks, Nathan. I appreciate the offer. But I haven't been to Maurice's in twenty years and I don't want to distract myself. On a cop's salary, who knows when I'll be back?" I make a counter offer, "Are you going to be at the country club on Saturday? I haven't been there in a while, but I'm sure Dad's kept up his membership."

"Sure. How about a game of golf? Say, around ten?"

"Sounds good." Sounds boring, but anything to get you to go.

A few more rounds of pleasantries and Nathan goes back to Peggy. Finally.

It takes me a few minutes to get back into the mood, but I reach it and the rest of the meal is sheer heaven. Every bite sends my throbbing cock up another notch. I'm aware of the other customers, the waiters moving around. The effort of not showing how good this feels is part of the fun.

Finally, I'm looking at the last bite. Slowly, I raise it to my mouth, my hungry cock frantic for that last piece of stimulation. I brace myself and bite down. The taste surges on my tongue, sensation rising, rising, until I come, shooting into the tissues carefully wrapped around my cock earlier tonight, hips jerking under the tablecloth. _Yes! Oh oh sweet.... god so good!_ I gleefully ride my orgasm under the ignorant, unseeing eyes of my fellow diners.

"Are you all right, sir? Do you need anything?" I look up into the mildly concerned eyes of my waiter. He's noticed the flush and the quick breathing.

"Fine. I'm fine," I gasp. "Just the peppercorns.... Hot!" I grab the crystal water glass and take a deep gulp. Yes, I'm feeling very fine, indeed.... "I'd like to see the desert menu now."

There's a chocolate mocha cream torte that I have fond memories of.


End file.
